Date Posted:14:14:01 12/29/02 Sun Author: Genold Subject: ...then... In reply to:
Adraine
's message, ".:wanderer:." on 07:48:28 12/29/02 Sun
Thwap.
Plunged, deep into the soil at the horse's front hooves, between them and slightly towards the right, appeared a cherrywood arrow. It was his mark, of course. The grizzled man stands nearby, downwind, bearing a long, slender bow set with a second arrow. His piercing eyes speak all that needs to be said, but his voice does so without need.
"Stand still. Who are you? Answer me quick."
He is a lean man, leaning somewhere on the plumper side. He is still tall, true to his heritage. His hair is gray, his face creased, even though he could be nowhere over the age of forty-six or so. But he keeps his hair loose, long as it was and tied only once near the end, and behind his back. His clothing is simple, and elvish, though they are stained and worn enough to displease a beggar. And he stands. He was a patient man -- he would wait.
